


Suckubus

by ghostyplasma



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, NSFW, Priest Kink, Religion, Religion Kink, Succubus, demon, incubus, multichapter fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostyplasma/pseuds/ghostyplasma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's afraid. Ultimately, he's afraid that the journey of becoming a body of the Church has not absolved him of all of his tenaciousness. Eren was afraid, terrified, for anyone to find out. He keeps it hidden, deep and deeper still in the very pits of the darkest parts in his heart. It was dangerous, blasphemous, disturbing, and most of all, explicitly shameful."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift to selfmadesuperhero on tumblr! check out their amazing art, which for the mooost part follows what will be written. please support this fic by leaving a comment or kudos!

It felt as if there were no winters harsher than Britain's own. On usual Sundays, mass would gather up inside of the monastery and sing from the Book of Hymns. It was a magnificent thing to see; hundreds of folks all over the conjoining towns coming together for prayer and worship under the guidance of Father Smith. However, since before October began, a grueling frost has swept the countryside for all of its worth. Mass began to grow smaller as the weeks went by and the weather reared nastily, and smaller still, until no more than four dozen worshipers would visit on Sundays. 

The vicar saddled up next to him, gloved hands folded at his front. Whispers passed around the church like rich, crisp communion wine. It was all the same; 'the Wild Boy is assisting Father Smith now', 'Pastor Smith saved the German boy from damnation,' 'that little dark boy is the Parochial Vicar; imagine that!'

Throughout all the gossip and giggles passed around from little girls to old men, Eren kept his mind resolutely clear of resentment. He'd bathed in those poisonous, hateful thoughts for most of his existence, but now that he was a body of the church he vowed to keep the Father's words in the forefronts of his mind and keep himself in the light of the Lord. 

"People will always ridicule you for something you cannot control; they will always try to tear into you with their words or their eyes, what have you, but Eren-" Erwin had paused to look at him, and on that day Eren knew he had found something here, "only in the eyes of the Lord are we in every sense redeemable from sin. You are redeemable, and-" his eyes flick down for a moment before they look back up to the boy standing and fidgeting before him, "you are worthy of the Lord's love and acceptance. If you accept Him into your heart, He will accept you into His own."

That day had shifted something within Eren: something fundamental had changed. He'd asked many questions after that day on how he could join the church, how he could find God's light and change within him the suffocating sin he had lived with for so long. 

At the time, Erwin had laughed. The smooth, deep sound had cut into the boy's heart and wrenched from his very soul all of the hope and wonder that he'd possessed. "Lad," he'd said, eyes alight and cheery. "You are just a boy. You cannot become a legal body of the Roman Catholic church. Not now, anyway."

Eren slammed his hands onto the face of the Pastor's desk. "I can volunteer until the day of my eighteenth birthday." 

He'd stayed silent for such a long while that all of Eren's bravado melted into nervousness. He was about to open his mouth, to apologize to Father Smith for his excited outburst, but he beat him to it. 

"Come to mass on Sundays. Come to me on Wednesdays for Bible study every week after school. We can start there. If you're serious about this, about accepting Him intocyour life, then come every day if you must." His eyes pierced through the boy, and long after Eren had left he could feel the imprint of that stare at the backs of his eyelids, all over his brain, hot on his body. Erwin was undoubtedly serious, and it was one of the first times Eren had been taken seriously. 

Looking back on it now, Eren couldn't be anything less than eternally grateful. He'd found himself within Erwin's teachings, within the walls of the church and under the Lord's gaze. He felt safe looking up at the stained glass that shimmered color all across the pews and over the heads of quietly praying worshipers. He was content to gaze upon Father Smith and the good power he yields. It's been three years now since he'd first met Erwin, and he couldn't utter one complaint over the complete shift his life had taken. 

Except for maybe- one, tiny little thing. It was nothing, really. Not much to worry over, to mull over, but Eren felt the churnng sickness within his very core nonetheless. 

He's afraid. Ultimately, he's afraid that the journey of becoming a body of the Church has not absolved him of all of his tenaciousness. Eren was afraid, terrified, for anyone to find out. He keeps it hidden, deep and deeper still in the very pits of the darkest parts in his heart. It was dangerous, blasphemous, disturbing, and most of all, explicitly shameful. 

"Father," he whispers, their shoulders brushing. The Priest looks down at him, eyebrows raising in interest. 

"Will the popularity of the church dwindle so much that it will cause a problem with weekly donations?"

Erwin snorts softly and inclines his head to the side for Eren to follow him. They walk down the aisle and Eren's palms begin to sweat in the confines of his winter gloves. With Erwin in front of him, striding elegantly down the rustic walkway dressed head to toe in sleek black, he can only begin to imagine what lies underneath each garment. They reach the podium and Erwin's bare fingers brush lightly, lovingly, over the closed, leather-bound Bible. He stands stall and the room grows silent almost immediately at the sight of him. Once more, Eren is amazed and awed into his own reverent silence at the easy display of total power Erwin possesses. He begins to speak, but Eren is only able to catch the very last few words. 

"... so, please, bring family, friends, anyone who is willing to share a hot meal under a sturdy roof on Saturdays and Wednesdays." he begins to go on about Bible study, and that's when Eren tunes out again. He looked out amongst the crowd of the young and old, scanning their weary faces for any hint of liveliness. The conjoining towns were thrown under the blizzards of winter and Eren knew that Erwin's intentions must be to share the generosity of the church to those who had no solid incomes during these times, or to those who were just plain poor. The thought made his tummy tickle with something warm, admiration growing larger within his chest. He keeps his gaze toward the crowd, though, lest he be caught staring for too long. 

Someone unfamiliar leans against the very last row of pews. It creaks in the near-silence. He squints, trying to catch clear sight of their face. They turn quickly and stalk to the very back of the room where the candlelight is not bright enough to touch. The shadow cast amongst the stranger seems to warmp and wave. Eren squints harder, the prickling of unease starting to bloom behind his neck and across his hairline. He glances back to Father Smith, but he seems not to be noticing the disturbance. He rubs his hands together and folds them behind his back, eyes glued to the shadows at the back of the church. The stranger comes back again and this time they come closer to sit in one of the empty rows. Their eyes- his eyes- are trained onto Eren's holding him down to the spot he stands in with a cold coal gaze.

"God bless this day we have been given, and allow His love help you persevere throughout the week unto Sunday, where we will meet once more in the Lord's welcoming embrace."

Mass disperses slowly afterward, thanking friends and neighbors and strangers and wishing them a good rest of their Sunday. Their previous whispers of the Wild Boy were forgotten for now, and Eren felt minorly relieved. 

"Pastor Smith," he begins, stepping sideways to block his path. "About the meals being served: how, if you don't mind, are we going to provide-"

"I don't suppose you'd find it in your hearts to receive a new servant of the Lord?" His voice carries through to them like smooth, sharp liquor. Eren jumps, eyes flashing once their eyes meet. 

Cunning, thin eyes assess them both up and down. Eren feels his skin crawl as if little fingers tickle him beneath his robes. He turns to Erwin, wondering desperately if he is receiving the same effect. 

Chin held high with an alighted look, Erwin holds his bare hand out to the stranger. He steps down from the stage to greet him properly, their hands meeting briefly with a firm shake. Erwin's eyes flit down in appreciation at the good, steady handshake. 

"Of course, we accept any and all who are willing to serve under the Lord. I'm the priest; Father Erwin Smith, and this-" he gestures towards Eren, who stands unwaveringly still as he watches them raptly, "is the church's Vicar, Eren Jaeger. Your name, if I may ask?"

His smile starts slow and charming. His eyes carry none of that weight, though. Not until they look back at Eren. 

"Ackerman."

"First name?" Erwin asks, met with nothing other than a cursory glance. 

He holds out his slim hand to Eren. The Vicar climbs down the steps slowly to meet the stranger. He stands close to Erwin's side, hating himself for acting like a frightened little boy. He holds his hand out to Ackerman, and the moment their hands touch, he spills his first name. 

"Levi." His gaze is intense and placid. It makes Eren flush with apprehension, the way he seems to slice into him and see. See what, Eren hopes to never find out. 

His voice is quiet and unsure. "A pleasure." 

A large, heavy hand claps warmly to his shoulder. He gasps, jumping under Erwin's light grip and blinking stupidly at his triumphant grin. 

"What were you saying earlier about losing followers to the winter?" he laughs. Eren cracks an unsure, shaky smile. 

"Suppose I was wrong."

A hum lilts from the man's short nose. "The Lord blesses us in mysterious ways."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “'When you joined the church, some-odd years ago…' he begins again, walking a leisurely pace that Eren didn’t quite agree with in this weather, 'you showed me something that I hadn’t encountered in all my years of traveling from monastery to abbey to monastery.' Surprised, Eren turns his full attention to the other man.  
> 'You showed me-' now, under the lowlight of streetlamps and the frosted influence of the weather, Eren couldn’t tell whether Erwin’s face had begun to redden or not, '-that perseverance and faith may triumph even the most grueling of patterns and habits. Your accomplishments showed that I, too, can persevere in the tasks I set out for myself.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not raunchy but we're gettin' there man. just puttin the feelers out for erwin and eren's dynamic. please drop a kudos or a comment and tell me how you think things are rolling! levi will be introduced much more next chapter. <3

They stand near the front of the church long after mass had dispersed. The imprint of the stranger’s inquisitive stare stuck like a brand on the fibers of Eren’s brain. He blinks, cringing at the memory of those whisping grey eyes boring into him. The evening hangs heavy upon Eren’s heart and he can feel anxious tendrils tightening his stomach into knots. The colored glass panes overhead look black against the dull night. His eyes flit towards Erwin who nods and dutifully shakes the hand of one of the sisters. 

“Don’t be too late coming back, you too.” she chides humorously, a kindly smile raising the wrinkled skin of her face.

Erwin chuckles. “Of course, sister.” he bows his head respectfully, wishing her a safe trip to the commune. It’s only until he turns back to Eren, who stands as still as the thick icicles hanging around the perimeter, that he moves to pick up washrags and wood oil to polish the pews with. They begin their evening clean up, wiping the altar, pews, and skimming around the still-burning candles sitting atop plentiful rows of end tables.  
The silence between them fills easily with the smooth baritone of Erwin’s humming. Eren stoops low to grab a wadded pamphlet, pausing in his actions only to listen for a moment. The tune is familiar; something he’s definitely grown accustomed to in the few years that he’s known Erwin. It’s surely familiar- so much that he could join in as well- but entirely unknown to the vicar. Working in the relative quiet alongside the pastor helps to calm the coils and springs jittering inside of him.  
It’s a while before they speak again and it nearly startles Eren.

“Are we about done?” Erwin asks, flitting about to blow out each set of candles around the room. Eren wipes his greasy fingers on the oiled rag, frowning as it does him no good.

“I think so.” he concludes dumbly. Erwin nods, coming back around to take the rag from between his dark fingers. 

“Go and gather your things. Best not to forget them again.” his teasing tone and light smile make Eren snort, abashed. He turns towards the back hall, fingers skimming over one of the confession stands.

“Your coat as well?”

“S’il vous plait.”

He feels around for the switch in the closet, grumbling and stumbling around until he finds it. Both his satchel and Erwin’s overcoat sit on worn little hooks. He reaches out almost timidly, brushing one of the brass buttons of the thick wintercoat. He takes it up into his arms and swings the satchel over one shoulder, fishing out the commune house keys after flicking the light.

“Ready?” asks Erwin. The church room is dark without the flame of numerous candles. Eren must squint to see him, however he makes it to the front door without any trouble.

Erwin holds out his arm for the coat. The boy comes forward without a thought, slipping the first sleeve up to Erwin’s elbow. Delightedly surprised, Erwin shifts to slip in his other hand in and with the help of the vicar, his coat sits heavy and snug upon his broad shoulders. He wears a bashful smile on his lips, looking down at Eren with a strange sort of sincerity that makes Eren feel out of place as he says, “Thank you, Eren.”

Within him the urge to speak of the distress coiling in his stomach finally overpowers his willful silence. Clearing his throat, Eren’s lips part uncertainly.  
“Father Smith,” he says, timid. They walk out together, locking the large oak door behind them. Their boots crunch down the frozen stone stairway as they begin their trek home.

It was a wide-known fact; the utter barrenness with which Parish Priests live under. As he began to learn more of Erwin Smith after their first meeting, the meaning of “sacrifice” changed entirely for him. He keeps himself quiet as he thinks, overtly aware of the expectant yet respectful silence Erwin gives him. He stares hard at the coat Erwin wears as he walks in front of him. That, even, is not his own to possess.

“Does it bother you? The… All of the things you have given up to be a pastor?”

Erwin hums softly, his breath rising grey above the blond halo of his head. “I wonder.” he nods to himself, pocketing his hands within his coat. “You must understand-...” he begins, pausing to think over his words. Eren waits patiently for his words. 

“You must understand that this is all a willful choice. I knew what I was getting myself into before I even thought of joining the church’s force. If I wanted to quit the whole thing, I certainly would. But what an awful man I would be then, to give up such an oath of devoutness.” Eren nods in understanding.

“Does it bother you that…” he feels hesitant to ask for more in fear of offending him. “Do you miss having your own home? And-... living on your own, having the liberties of a free man?”

Erwin laughs. For a good few seconds, Eren feels utterly foolish. “Eren, I am no less free than you. I am- I feel liberated. I feel blessed to be where I am; to be who I am, and do what I do. My life is devoted to helping people. It’s devoted to serving the Lord and to aid those who live on His good, green earth.” He picks at the thick, black cotton of his coat. “Things like this- to me, they’re trivial. Why own things that will be locked away for the better part of a year? My measures may seem drastic,” he grins down at the boy, “but I am happy to share my life with the people I work with and respect and trust. Giving these small freedoms up is the frivolous price I pay to feel closer to God. It’s a sacred oath between me and Him; celibacy, communement, what have you.” They blink at each other, forgetting entirely when they had decided to stop in their pace altogether and face each other. Eren cups his rosy fingers and huffs into the curl of his hands, rubbing them together for any semblance of warmth. He ticks his head to the side and they both walk on.

“When you joined the church, some-odd years ago…” he begins again, walking a leisurely pace that Eren didn’t quite agree with in this weather, “you showed me something that I hadn’t encountered in all my years of traveling from monastery to abbey to monastery.” Surprised, Eren turns his full attention to the other man.  
“You showed me-” now, under the lowlight of streetlamps and the frosted influence of the weather, Eren couldn’t tell whether Erwin’s face had begun to redden or not, “-that perseverance and faith may triumph even the most grueling of patterns and habits. Your accomplishments showed that I, too, can persevere in the tasks I set out for myself.”

Bashful and pleased with the praise, Eren himself flushes under such high regard. Hesitant, he asks, “Do you have a habit that you’re working to defeat…?” he gasps quite suddenly, hands flying out from his pockets to wave in front of him. “Father Smith, if I’m becoming too intrusive, please-!”

“Please,” Erwin chuckles, waving one of his own hands in dismissal. “Were I frightened of you finding out too much about my dark past or- or dark present, for that matter, I would tell you to pipe up.”

Eren huffs an appreciative laugh at his banter, looking down at their frosted boots. The evening sprinkles snow overhead and Eren flips up his hood.  
“Eren.” the tone Father Smith uses is almost serious, and for a moment he feels as though he’s in trouble. “Outside of the church, you can call me Erwin. Father Smith is entirely too formal a title to be addressing the person you commune with.”

A surprisingly warm feeling spreads throughout him from his very core, all the way to his tippy toes. The feeling spreads to his cold fingers, and he feels no need to warm them any longer. “Hard to break old habits.” he says quietly. He looks up at Erwin, and to his surprise they’re at the front steps of the house. The lights are still on and Eren sends thanks to sister Hanji for thinking of them. They’ve no concept of the time or of how late it is when they walk up, but tiredness drags on Eren’s body like fat, drousing smoke. Eren jingles the keys in his pocket, tossing them lightly to Erwin. They walk carefully up the crumbled, icy stairway. A yawn rips from his chapped lips under the lamplight and Erwin’s chuckles are soft and soothing to his tired mind.

“This was your first real running Sunday as Parochial Vicar.” he unlocks the door as he speaks. He turns to Eren just as the door cracks open. His blue eyes shine with contentment and pride, and it makes something inside of Eren swell impossibly more.

“Well done, Vicar Jaeger.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “'Get dressed. We’ll head out early.'
> 
> Eren bows his head, feeling quite ridiculous as he does so. He swallows the lump of guilt in his throat. It takes a painful amount of scrounging of true courage to be able to speak. Finding his voice, he assents, 'Yes, Father Smith,' softly, before retreating back into his room quickly. He never wants to come out of his room again. His back hits the face of the door and he tugs at his bedheaded hair. He never wants to face Father Smith again.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mentions of heavy drug usage xxx finally getting into more of the meat! don't forget to support the author with comments or kudos, they're much appreciated. as always, please enjoy!!

There is no better way to awaken from sleep than as when Eren opens his eyes. He feels heavy and slow and gloriously cozy from the remnants of deep sleep. Warmth wraps itself all around him in the form of thick, soft cotton blankets. He shifts on his cot, listening to the creaks and groans of old springboards and wiggling happily in his protective little cocoon. As he shifts, the welcoming weight of his sex presses against the inside of his thighs. An excited hum passes through his indulgent smile. His tongue pokes out to wetten his open mouth, teeth worrying the plumpness of his bottom lip until it stings. 

His flips himself over onto his stomach, wiggling his hips down against the warm bedspread. He groans a little breathlessly, a wide smile cracking onto his face as dull pleasure shoots through him. He hums, humping his hips firmly against the sheets and moaning at the dry friction. His cock begins to swell further into hardness, trapped within his sleep pants. He shimmies out of them until the band rests just below the pert swell of his ass. Eren drives forward more earnestly now, rolling his hips forward and dropping his forehead against the pillow. His fingers grasp the sheets tightly, eyes squeezing shut against the intense sensation. He muffles himself against the bed, panting hotly into the dampening fabric. It isn’t too often that he allows himself to indulge in pleasure- not nearly as often as he’d like, anyway. Back then, if he so much as had the urge…

Eren groans brokenly, flipping himself over again to grasp and pump his cock freely. The foreskin slicks over his sensitive cockhead. It makes him shiver, a helpless little moan working its way passed clenched, white teeth. His body shivers in delight, sweat gathering at his hairline and prickling his tan skin. He works himself over with tight, quick strokes along the thick shaft, reaching his other hand out to circle a finger over the underside. He arches away from it instantly, crooning out in surprise before forcing himself to settle back down and endure it. He cringes, panting hot and rubbing punishing circles against his slick pink frenulum.

His mind begins to wander with the intensity. The heat radiating from his body brings back hazed days spent indoors during the summer, blinds shut tight over broken windows to keep prying eyes out. He was so young, but he’d lived more than a lifetime in those short years. Even now he feels old, too old for his young body, too hooked on the feeling of release and what those men could give him. Eren gasps, eyes shooting open. He looks frantically around the room, the walls almost bare with how little he has to his name. He settles back uneasily, feeling sweat begin to drip from his shaggy scalp. He tries valiantly to let his mind wander from his shackles of the past. Once he begins stroking himself again, though, they resurface to the forefronts of his mind. He groans, eyebrows knitting together. Indecision melts away and he allows him to think of their rough hands, of cigar smoke, of the dank weed that hung around his clothes. His thighs shake again, muscles of his stomach tensing as his orgasm nears faster than before.

He feels their phantom hands against his skin, calloused and demanding and wanting nothing more than him. He remembers it all vividly, allowing their tongues drenched in malt liquor to lick into his own greedy mouth. They would cut straight lines of pure snow for him and he, too young to know any sense of right or wrong, snorted it unflinchingly through one of the rolled bills they paid him with. He always reveled in the uproar of laughs this caused, tingly with the feeling of pleasing them with something so simple. Eren cries out now, head swimming with the remnants of plaguing memory. He sucks in a harsh breath, biting his lip and licking his mouth, hoping to catch a taste of dusted powder. He arches once more off the bed, the slick sound of his pleasure drowned out by his lewd sounds. He pumps his hips up into his hand, opening his mouth on a shuddering moan before he spills all over himself. He works his cock until it’s almost sore from oversensitivity, breathing hard as he falls down from the high. His tongue pokes out to lick a line that managed to splatter across the high of his chin and as he does so, his eyes open to lock with those of Erwin’s. 

His hands are raised as if in surrender, and before Eren can so much as twitch one of his spent muscles, the door slams closed. Once gone, Eren makes an unearthly, boyish sound. He lays there, mind blank except for the slow whirring of confusion. His cheeks glow brightly with shame once he catches on. He lays a wrist over his two eyes and breathes deeply inward and out, rubbing the sweat on his brow in little circles. The bare skin of his thighs drip with cum and he groans again. Eren wipes his chin with his wrist, disgust tugging at his mouth. Tongue curling at the taste of himself, regret sinks in deeper than embarrassment.

Throwing his stiff legs over the bed’s edge, he wipes himself down with his sleep pants and scrounges for a clean pair. Once reasonably dressed, he sits on the edge and listens intently to the bedsprings groan. It isn’t until then does he realize what had just occurred, and soon he drowns in the embarrassing misery of being caught. As if he were some little kid rather than an actual, legitimate adult. Eren scrubs his coal-hot face for a moment, groaning forlornly against his palms. He doesn’t even know if he regrets it- and he feels as though that is the worst part of it all. He should feel ashamed. He feels he should be embarrassed- he is, but for entirely wrong reasons. He stands up after a few more minutes of wallowing in his aggravated self-pity. Eren hops up and stands close to the face of his door. He presses his face against its cool surface, mind whirring as he does so. His fingertips skim the cold metal of the doorknob, wondering if it’s entirely too soon to safely head out. He presses his ear to the door, listening for any sign of life outside the door, as if Erwin would be waiting for him on the other side. He shakes his head and cusses under his breath, glancing towards the rustic clock on the wall and reaching up to pick at the dry skin of his bottom lip. Six forty. Too late to pretend to’ve gone to sleep, too early to get ready for weekday mass.

He hits his forehead lightly against the face of the door. His hand holds tightly to doorknob., wondering what he should do. How long has it already been? All traces of his orgasm has left him, leaving him feeling strung out and tired.

A light knock sounds on the other side, eliciting a shocked little gasp from within his belly. He swings the door open immediately, expecting a stoic-faced Erwin with his chin held high. Instead, quite to Erens surprise, stood sister Hanji. He blinks stupidly at her. 

She smiles, cheerful despite the early hour. “Morning. Did Father Smith tell you about the plans for this week? We’ll have to go over rations in advanced and call upon Services for food and drink to serve on Wednesday and Friday. Do you think you could call it in, Vicar?” she emphasized his title with an excited little grin.

His mouth opens. Nothing comes out. He stares.

“I think it’s a little too early for him to be talking so seriously, Zoe.” Terror grips him. He whips his head to the side and spots Erwin, straight-shouldered and tall. His face gives nothing away; not even an, ‘I saw what you look like when you come.’ Eren feels like he should feel some sort of sick delight, feel accomplished for holding any type of conspicuous, sexual interaction with the pastor. Even the thought of this makes him feel worse, dirtier, and he feels angry at himself for even thinking of such a thing. The pastor is a good, wholesome man, Eren reminds himself. He’s probably disgusted, disappointed- Eren stops himself, the scowl on his face softening slightly.

“Right! Right. I guess we’re used to it, doing this for so many years.” She pats Eren on the shoulder, tugging at the edge of his shirt. “It’s almost seven and you’re not even dressed yet.” she laughs. “You’re still just a pup, after all.” she relents.

His back straightens. “I’m an adult, sister.” He looks anxiously towards the pastor, heart dropping down to his toes at the little, encouraging smile given up to him.. 

“That you are,” Zoe says as she walks back down the hall. “Be sure you do get to calling the Service today, though!”

He clears his throat. “Yes, sister.” Erwin inclines his head to the side, pursed lips hiding his smile once Zoe’s out of earshot.

“Get dressed. We’ll head out early.”

Eren bows his head, feeling quite ridiculous as he does so. He swallows the lump of guilt in his throat. It takes a painful amount of scrounging of true courage to be able to speak. Finding his voice, he assents, “Yes, Father Smith,” softly, before retreating back into his room quickly. He never wants to come out of his room again. His back hits the face of the door and he tugs at his bedheaded hair. He never wants to face Father Smith again.


End file.
